Pearl of the Stars | Far From Home

Commander Hen Riley made his way swiftly along the gangplank that led to the Pearl of the Stars. The vessel loomed large above him. A rather ugly ship yet it was quite clear she was built for fighting, not to look pretty.

Her hull was pocked with scorch and impact marks, though Hen could tell simply by looking at her that she was able to take much more punishment than she already had.

Mr Holden met him at the access hatch, and welcomed him aboard.

“Good to see you, Commander,” he saluted with his right arm and shook Hen’s left as the other man returned the gesture. “Do you have news of Grace’s whereabouts?”

“I’m afraid not, Mr Holden,” Hen replied. “Where is Ms Johnson?”

“Couldn’t tell you, Sir,” said Holden. “No one’s seen her for a few hours.”

“Well, she must be around here somewhere. Either way, we need to take the Pearl out, and search for Grace ourselves.”

“You may not have noticed, Commander, but the Pearl isn’t going anywhere,” Holden shrugged, as the two men headed towards the bridge. “Not unless you’ve got some kind of magic fix for the majority of her systems. All we have is life support, and emergency lights.”

“Get me a com link and I’ll have the Pearl up and running in no time, Mr Holden.”

“Aye Sir.”

“This is Commander Hen Riley of the Allied Worlds,” Hen spoke as soon as the link was active. “To whom am I speaking?”

“Lieutenant...”

“Well, Lieutenant. You will release all preventative measures from the Pearl of the Stars at once, on my authority, else I’ll have you shipped out to the remotest fickling craphole of a planet the Quintus star system has to offer. Do I make myself clear?”

“But, Sir...”

“I don’t care who your orders come from, Lieutenant. Nor do I care what will be done to you, should you disobey those orders. What you should care about though, is what I’ll do to you, should you disregard my orders.”

There was a pause, longer than Hen would’ve liked. He thought for a moment that the Lieutenant would disobey the order but one by one, the Pearls systems reactivated, and a slight juddering indicated her engines were firing once again.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” said Hen, kindly. “You made the right call.”

The Rising Sun and the Nexus raced towards the Jump Point at a speed two and a half times the speed of light. Such a velocity would not normally be possible, but the aid proffered by the star’s gravity enabled both vessels to travel so quickly without a need to engage their Faster-Than-Light drives and entering Jump Space.

They would have to slow down long before reaching the Jump Point else they would not be able to make the transition between normal space and Jump Space.

“The enemy fleet is heading towards the star, Ma’am,” said Ella Canston, the Rising Sun’s recently appointed XO. “It seems Captain Jargo’s sacrifice will allow us to make good our escape.”

“Thanks, Den,” Senna Karavel said, quietly. She glanced towards Ella. “Ms Canston, give me your best estimate as to how long the Rising Sun can maintain this pace.”

“Not long, Ma’am,” Ella replied. “Half an hour at the outside.”

“Get me weapons.”

“Aye Ma’am,” a Lieutenant replied. “Weapons.”

“Drop a few mines to cover our escape,” said Senna, once the call was answered. “We’ll slow them down as best we can.”

“Ma’am, there’s activity at the Jump Point.”

“Get me the Nexus,” said Senna, terminating the transmission, before waiting impatiently for the next connection to be made.

“Aye Ma’am, the Nexus.”

“Frank, are you seeing what we’re seeing?”

“Aye, I was just about to call you myself, Senna.”

“Have your systems registered a call-sign?”

“No, but I don’t expect to pick up one we recognise. We’re at the arse end of fick knows where.”

“I suggest we drop to a velocity more suitable for an engagement, Frank.”

“It’s that, or we plough straight through ’em,” Frank Holding replied. “’Course, we’ll probably come off worse.”

“Point-Five light?”

“Aye, that should do it.”

“Are you ready for this, Frank?”

“Ready to die? Been ready all my life, Senna. Just depends if it’s the bastards behind us or them that’s coming.”

“For Den.”

“Aye,” Frank replied, lighting a cigarette as he did so. “For Den Jargo.”

Reducing velocity whilst travelling in space was a tricky process anyway but without any sort of inertial dampening, it was tantamount to suicide.

Frank terminated the call between the Nexus and the Rising Sun, and shared a slightly worried look with Major Hynes. The Major nodded, slowly.

“Put me ship-wide.”

“Aye Sir, ship-wide.”

“Crew of the Nexus, this is Captain Holding,” he began, pausing to take a draw upon the cigarette. “Things are about to get very fickling rough around here. We’re going to drop from Two-Five, to Point-Five light, and we’re going to do so without any kind of dampening. If you can, strap yourself in. If not, then hold onto something. If you suffer any injury or ill effects, Doc Marten’s on stand by. Holding out.”

“What about you, Frank?” said Hynes. “You’re not heeding your own advice?”

“Don’t worry about me, Jim,” Holding chuckled. “When we engage, we don’t know what’ll happen. With luck, they’ll just try and blow us into the middle of next fickling week, but if they try to board us...”

“They won’t take us without a good bloody fight, Frank,” the Major replied.

“Glad to hear it, Major.”

“Reducing velocity now, Sir. Reverse thrusters at maximum power.”

The Nexus′ speed dropped rapidly as the reverse thrusters did their job. Central on the vessel’s bridge, Frank Holding gripped the arms of his chair tightly as he fought against the momentum that wanted to fling his body forwards. Though he was unable to move his head, he was able to look around the bridge. One or two of his subordinates had not taken his advice, and were definitely going to need Jared’s expertise. To Frank’s right, Major Hynes had himself braced against a bulkhead, and was standing fast.

“Three ships... just... jumped in... Sir,” Lieutenant Jones just about managed to say.

“How... much... longer... before we... reach... Point... Five..?

“Twenty sev... seven... seconds...”

“Shut the... fick... up ’til... then...”

The Nexus and the Rising Sun, in close formation, further decreased their speed. When the vessels reached Point-Nine, the ride became much smoother and a few seconds later at Point-Five, everything was as normal.

The ships that had caused the need for the rapid reduction in speed, were only seven light-minutes ahead. The Nexus′ systems showed they were travelling at Point-Three.

“That’s going to be a quick fickling fight,” Frank muttered. A closing speed of Point-Eight was incredibly fast. At that velocity there was no guarantee that either side would score a direct hit, just as it was not certain that vessels would be able to avoid coming into contact with one another. “Lieutenant Jones, the three ships that appear to be following the fleet?”

“Yes Sir,” Fiona replied, “it’s just... there has to be a mistake.”

“Tell me regardless, Lieutenant.”

“Aye Sir,” she said again, this time with a shrug. “They’re ours.”

Emily looked at the landscape far below as she piloted Six as expertly as any other fighter pilot, despite the fact that the only other occasion she’d been at the helm of anything other than a battlecruiser, was back at the academy on Victoria II.

She returned her attention to the DNA detection device that was attached to the dash.

“Fick!” she grunted. The device had been silent since she’d left the sanctity of the starboard deck, and she was pretty sure she’d covered eighty percent of the planet.

She flipped Six in a loop and headed south. Within sixty clicks or so, she should be within range of the Pearl of the Stars and thus be able to contact the Chief.

Much to her surprise, only seconds after she’d turned the plane south, the analogue radio fizzled into life, midst a mass of static.

“Spark, Whistler, Ms Johnson,” it was the Chief’s voice, thankfully, though he sounded a mite concerned. “Anyone, do you copy? I repeat, do you copy?”

“Copy, Chief,” Emily replied. “Everything OK?”

“Commander Riley’s assumed command of the Pearl, Ma’am,” he replied.”

“Is anyone hurt?”

“No Ma’am, it wasn’t a hostile take over. I’m not sure anyone’s noticed, to be honest. But the impression I get from Mr Holden is that Riley’s calling the shots.”

“At least he can’t do anything with her, being dock-locked and all.”

“That’s the thing, Ma’am... the Pearl’s flying.”

“How?”

“I don’t know the ins and outs, Ma’am.”

“Fair enough, Chief.”

“Are you having any luck out there?”

“No, there’s no sign of her on the surface,” Emily replied. “Do you know Spark and Whistler’s location?”

“No Ma’am, and it’s likely they’re cloaked, too.”

“I thought as much. Guess I’ll remove mine, and hope they find me before anyone else does.”

There was no reply, only static over the com, which meant it was likely the Pearl was out of range.

She lit a cigarette as she disengaged Six’s cloaking device.

“Come on then, guys,” she said, quietly. “Where the fick are you?”

Captain Frank Holding stared at Lieutenant Jones in disbelief. Then, without saying a word he allowed his eyes to drop to the data readout. There was no denying that the three vessels were of Council design, and their respective call signs certainly looked familiar.

“Get me the Rising Sun.”

“Aye Sir, the Rising Sun.”

“Senna, either my systems are glitching like a motherficker, or those three vessels are with us.”

“I’m getting the same information, Frank.”

“So long as it’s not just me, then,” he replied, with a shrug. “Right, we’re less than two light-minutes from contact...”

“Hold on, Frank,” said Senna, as she lit a cigarette. “Watch your display.”

Both Captains watched their respective screens, open-mouthed, as the three apparently Council vessels laid waste to the fifteen ships they’d followed through the Jump Point.

By the time the Nexus and the Rising Sun reached what would have been the point of engagement, there was nothing left for them to fight. The fifteen enemy vessels had been completely obliterated by what Frank could only assume, was some kind of modified nuclear warhead. Three of the weapons, one fired from each ship, had taken out the entire fleet.

As the Nexus slowed to a speed of Point-Two, a signal latched onto the connection that already existed between the vessel and the Rising Sun. Beside Senna Karavel’s image, the head and shoulders of a woman appeared.

“Thanks for the save, there,” said Frank, gruffly, “but who the fick are you?”

“Captain Rena Williams of the battleship, Snowblind. The two cruisers with me are the Echo and the Hell’s Angel,” she said, her voice deep. As best Frank could tell she was not wearing regulation uniform, or any uniform for that matter. From what he could see of the vest she was wearing, it was a little grimy to say the least, as was its wearer. More to the point, he’d never heard of a Captain Rena Williams, nor of the Snowblind or her sister vessels.

“Now, it’s your turn,” said Rena, as she lit a cigarette. “Our systems say you’re the Nexus and the Rising Sun. Thing is, those ships were destroyed a bloody long time ago.”

“Trust me, your data is correct,” said Senna. Whilst on the Nexus′ screens, it was her image next to that of Rena Williams, on those screens aboard the Rising Sun, it was Frank whose face was next to that of the newcomer.

“According to our information,” Rena began, turning her head to apparently look at a screen of her own, “those vessels were destroyed in the star system, designated Ryban, almost four hundred years ago.”

“Ryban was less than twelve months ago,” said Frank, quietly. “What the fick is going on?”

“I wish I could tell you,” Captain Williams replied. “But might I suggest we exit this star system, sharpish, and reconvene after a Jump?”

“Sounds like a fickling plan to me,” Frank replied.

The call terminated, the Nexus continued along her trajectory towards the Jump Point, followed swiftly by the Rising Sun, the Hell’s Angel, the Echo, and the Snowblind at the rear.

***

Leaving Kargõs behind, the Pearl of the Stars headed out into the Quintus star system.

Hen Riley sat in the command chair, and smiled. He’d never commanded a vessel of such size and power, and though it wasn’t an official posting, he fully intended to make the most of it.

“Point-Two, Mr Holden, port four degrees.”

“Aye Sir, Point-Two,” Holden replied diligently, as he carried out the issued commands. “Port, four degrees.”

Down on the starboard deck, those fighter pilots who remained ran through their various fitness drills. Piloting one of the Council planes was far from easy. One had to be extremely fit, physically, to do so.

“They’re looking good, Chief.”

“Aye, that they are, Mr Foster.”

“You’ve heard from Emily?”

“A while ago. I’d assume by now she’s met up with Spark and Whistler.”

“Whatever happens, we can’t let Riley get wind that we’ve got three people out there.”

“You don’t trust him either, Mr Foster?”

“Like fick do I?” Foster replied, with a slight chuckle. “I don’t know what it is about him, but he’s different, from the first time we met him.”

“We could... y’know..?”

“Get him in the Chair?”

“Aye.”

“Yes, Chief,” Foster smiled. “Let’s do that.”